The somewhat unfortunate
encounter in an uptown New York hotel between Mr Domininiqe Strauss-Khan,
formerly of the IMF, and an anonymous female employee of the hotel has all
sorts of tongues wagging. Some speak convincingly of conspiracies involving
French secret agents and drugs that make men behave badly. While this may be
the case, most men squirm uncomfortably. It is hard to believe a man such as
DSK cannot have grasped the two most basic of lessons in seduction. First,
distinguishing between a ‘no’ that really does means ‘no’, and a ‘no’ that might
mean ‘maybe’. This is not a straightforward as you might think. Like
interpreting chicken entrails, this is fraught with the dangers of
mistranslation. I once incorrectly determined that ‘I wouldn’t go out with you
if you were the last man on earth’ was a ‘no’. Years later, the woman in
question chastised me for not trying again. The second lesson derives from the
first: developing the judgement to know when to back off, and this is something
that derives only from experience.

As a young man I
found the rather conceited attitude of older men annoying when they happily proclaimed
that youth was wasted on the young. That we didn’t know what a good thing we
had going, that we frittered away opportunities. While this may have well been
so, now that I am the age of those boring old farts I realise that while youth
may not appreciate their time in the sun, very few old people have acquired any
wisdom. In short, age is wasted on the old.

Lacking the
knowledge of experience is the greatest asset of youth: they have not yet
discovered the importance of consequence, and the burden it creates to action. Youth
have the advantage of being self-involved, and best of all, have no cause to
expect anything but happy outcomes, hugs and puppies. Perfection – or wanting
to be so – is a universal fault of youth, and this is bred in a milieu of
unwarranted optimism. There is no baggage to colour their encounters with
reality. There have few experiences – bad or good – and this naiveté permits
youth to behave and act without consideration to the risks of these actions. I
recall clearly the sense of invincibility, of the concreteness of my belief
that the future stretched so far ahead of me as to be infinite, and as a
consequence the surety that I was going to live forever, that I could keep
trying till I got it right.

This sense of immortality
can extend as far as believing we can dodge bullets, much like Neo in The
Matrix. I recall – at the age of 16 - intentionally annoying soldiers armed
with guns and the right to use these weapons with abandon, unafraid of what the
consequences might be. And here – gentle readers - is my point: the gift of
youth is that consequence has not as yet been invented. Others may know of
this, but as it isn’t our experience, it doesn’t matter. Just because you could
not do it, do not tell us we cannot.

The discovery of
consequence comes as an unpleasant surprise: that every action has a
consequence, and - worse – we are responsible for them. Young adulthood comes
with the unpleasant discovery that your guardians/parents/friends cannot come
and rescue you from the consequences of your actions (when bad) with the
excuse, ‘he’s just a child’.

Consequences –
of course – can be positive as well. Otherwise we would all have the courage of
mice by our 18th birthday. Those who seize the day against the odds
and win the spoils thereof make up the essence of legends in love, war and
life, even if this is only amongst your 3 friends from kindergarten. The rush
of adrenalin in our veins and the ensuing taste of victory – no matter how
minuscule – lights a fire in our belly and makes us thirst for more.

This is why
youth challenge the order of things, organise revolutions, demand the
resignation of despots, place flowers in the barrel of guns, stand in the way of
tanks, rise when told to back down. This why revolutions happen – because wiser
(i.e., older) heads have proclaimed that no rational person would take such a
course of action – and for exactly that reason, they sometimes succeed. This is
why the geek sometimes gets the prom queen, why David got Goliath, why Alexander
got to India. History is dotted with stories of men and women whose primary
qualification for changing the world has been an utter lack of experience, a
complete disregard for the facts, and an overwhelmingly powerful sense of
conviction. In short, it needs the impetuousness of youth. Older people may
provide the leadership for a revolution, but it is young and foolish upon whose
backs, sweat, blood and tears the actual revolting takes place.

More
frivolously, the absence of a clear link between our actions and consequences
which have not as yet happened means that broken hearts and hurt feelings
disappear rapidly. The future’s so bright, we gotta wear shades. Who has time
to mourn or mull over a lost opportunity when a thousand adventures yet await
you, especially when losses have no cost?

The whole karma
thing, of course, does kick in eventually. Everything (as anyone over a certain
age realises), has a price, whether you like it or not, good or bad. Athletes
know the price of success is physical injury, lovers know about broken hearts,
doctors know about death. And, as DSK is finding out, don’t do the crime if you
can’t do the time. The Moving Finger writes, and having writ, Moves on.

The day we
discover these costs, the day we hesitate to undertake impetuous action because
have thought of the consequences of failure is when we become adults, and by
definition, boring old farts. Some may say that it requires even greater
courage to act with open eyes, to proceed with full knowledge of the possible
outcomes and the consequences thereof. While this may be so, it is also a sure
sign of the eclipse of one’s youth. One cannot be young and reckless forever:
society has no patience for people who suffer from a Peter Pan Complex. For
every action there is a season, and for a young man to not act recklessly seems
as unnatural as for an old man to act as if there are no consequences.

So it is with
DSK. His shame –whether the accusations in this instance are true or not - is
to act as if there were no consequences, not to have learnt the most basic of
lessons of adulthood. For a young man to misinterpret a woman’s ‘no’ can be
put down to naiveté; for an older man there can only be the humiliation of
being the object of pity and an embarrassment to the collective members of the
male gender. All of whom wonder with consternation about the absence of rationality
from a man of some gravity, experience and intelligence. Perhaps these are the
advantages of privilege that derive from wealth and status.

Much easier to
accept, for us, the far-fetched possibility of a conspiracy theory.